


strange bedfellows

by sparkycap



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Drift Compatibility, F/M, POV Cersei Lannister, POV Outsider, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21590845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkycap/pseuds/sparkycap
Summary: Everyone knows the Lannister twins only got their jaeger because their daddy paid for it. As far as most of the rangers in the program are concerned, even their kill count is only a result of their little brother's newest tech. Everyone also knows they're too twisted to drift with anyone but each other, but Cersei is almost impressed that Catelyn Stark is trying.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Catelyn Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	strange bedfellows

**Author's Note:**

> Cersei and Catelyn's dynamic from the first two episodes of the show will pretty much never stop haunting me - I mean, Catelyn being sort of turned off by her but still trying to distract her from Robert's awfulness at the feast in Winterfell? Cersei's whole tearful reminiscence to her at Bran's bedside? So here I am with like twenty AU ideas that involve Cersei and unexpected emotional revelations in the presence of Catelyn Stark. But obviously there's plenty of Cersei/Jaime here too because the concept of drift compatibility was pretty much made for them.

When the Starks come to them with a plan to save the world, Jaime actually laughs. “You’re not going to drift with one of us.”

“Are you refusing?” Catelyn says calmly.

“No, I’m stating a fact,” Jaime says, glancing at his sister. “This might seem like a good option, but when it comes down to it – are you really going to be able to lower yourself to that level? The great Catelyn Stark, getting into bed with a Lannister? Figuratively speaking, of course.”

“It’s your head I need to get into,” Catelyn says briskly. “And it’s not a good option, it’s the _only_ option. I’m the only one who can carry out my husband’s plan, but I need a copilot. And somehow you two are the only well-trained pilots left in this entire damn Shatterdome.”

It’s not surprising. They’re sitting opposite Catelyn Stark and her son in an unused conference room. End days of the war, there aren’t enough jaeger pilots to fill this long table. Ned Stark is only in the hospital, a metal rod driven through his knee during their last fight, but his ghost seems to sit at the head of the table.

“Mother,” Robb says quietly. “I can –”

“We’ve had this discussion,” Catelyn says, not looking at him. They’ve all heard impressive things about Robb Stark, but he does look entirely too young in this moment, falling silent at a word from his mother.

Cersei finally speaks. “You should listen to your pup, Catelyn. Jaime and I don’t drift with anyone else.”

“You can’t, or you don’t?” Catelyn asks.

Cersei smiles thinly. “Does it matter?”

“Very much so.” Catelyn takes a deep breath, visibly trying to contain her frustration, her thinly veiled disgust. Cersei knows her reputation, Jaime’s reputation. They’re selfish, they’re in it for the glory, they only look out for themselves. They didn’t earn their place in the program, Tywin Lannister’s funding earned it for them. And when Catelyn looks at Jaime, she knows exactly what’s coming next. “It really should be you. You’re the dominant pilot, the better fighter –”

“Actually, we switch,” Jaime says carelessly. “The right-side left-side thing? Doesn’t matter so much for twins.”

Cersei holds her head high as Catelyn pauses and glances between them. It’s true that they switch sides in the conn-pod often enough, but it’s also true that Jaime is the better fighter. She’s not ashamed of it. They both have their strengths, isn’t that the entire point? If they cared what people thought, they wouldn’t have had their jaeger plated gold. Golden Lion/ess is the very best of the Lannisters – Tyrion’s designs, Tywin’s money. Jaime’s strength and his sword, Cersei’s cleverness and claws. 

Finally, Jaime leans back in his chair, and Cersei leans forward over the table, a perfect mirror. “Here’s my offer. Explain Ned’s plan, and we’ll do it ourselves.”

“It’s not that simple,” Catelyn says.

“I know I’m not exactly known for my intelligence, but I assure you, my sister is more than capable of following,” Jaime says. “Tell her what your husband told you, and she’ll explain it to me later in smaller words.”

“Is everything a joke to you?” Catelyn demands. “In four hours, we’re going to lose this city. I don’t like _this_ any more than you do, but it’s up to us to do _something_.”

For the first time, Jaime looks offended. “Don’t act as if we’re refusing to do something when we’re offering to do it for you.”

“It doesn’t work like that. Believe me, I wish it did.” For the first time, Catelyn looks tired. Her eyes drift to the head of the table, her husband’s silent, absent judgment. Under the table, she grasps her son’s hand. Cersei watches, something unpleasant twisting in her stomach. Catelyn Stark has a whole brood of children to lose, if the city falls.

“Fine,” she says abruptly. “I’ll do it.”

“No,” Jaime says. “Absolutely not.”

“I wasn’t asking your permission,” she tells him.

“Cersei –”

“I’ll do it,” she says, ignoring him – her twin, and the voice in her head telling her this is an awful, wrong idea. Jaime and the voice in her head have always sounded eerily similar. One of the voices, anyway. “I’ve never drifted with anyone else before, but I’m sure you and I can manage a handshake, don’t you think, Catelyn?”

Catelyn’s lips thin. “I’m sure we can.”

“I’m sure you shouldn’t,” Jaime counters. “You said it should be me, it’ll be me. Cersei can’t –”

“ _I_ can,” Cersei says, not looking at him. She keeps her eyes locked with Catelyn Stark’s. “Jaime’s the one who won’t be able to hold a handshake, and he knows it.”

“Jaime is the one who has done it with someone else before,” Catelyn points out. “He has the experience.”

“Exactly –”

“Exactly,” Cersei says. “With Aerys Targaryen. I know what you think of my brother, Catelyn. The moment the word ‘oathbreaker’ enters your drift, he’ll be chasing the RABIT, and both of you will be heading for a watery grave.”

Catelyn draws up short. “I hadn’t realized that was a problem for him.”

Cersei wonders if Catelyn realizes that she’s begun talking about Jaime like he isn’t in the room, something she has more than once called Cersei out for doing, as if it was some sort of sign that Cersei didn’t respect anyone but herself, as if Jaime didn’t speak for her just as often. She says, “It isn’t. When he’s with me. No one else is ever getting inside my brother’s head again.”

\---

They both chase the RABIT, in the end, but they get it over with before the fight starts. They’re still in the bay, and every cell in Cersei’s being rebels against the idea of baring her soul for this woman, because she might not be kaiju but that doesn’t mean she isn’t an enemy. They’re both professionals, so they make it further into the drift than they truly should be able to – a neural handshake initiated, both of them fighting to stay in two when the current tries to make them one, jagged fragments of memory pushing against each other and drawing blood.

_Robb paces up and down the length of the table after they’ve gone, hands clasped behind his back, brow furrowed. Catelyn tries to summon a smile. “When your father told you to look out for me while he was in the hospital, this wasn’t what he meant.”_

_“I think this is for the best,” Robb says finally, ignoring her. “Jaime Lannister tried to put his jaeger at the bottom of the ocean last time he drifted with anyone other than his sister. You can trust Cersei’s survival instincts, if nothing else.”_

_“Hush, my love.” Catelyn stands to pull her firstborn into her arms. “I’ll come back to you, I swear it.”_

Catelyn redirects the current – thinking of her children never helps, especially those of them that won’t be children much longer –

_“Cersei,” Jaime whispers. He shuts the door to her bunk softly, so softly, but she’s already awake, has been perhaps since the moment he first stirred in his bed down the hall. He comes to kneel by her head, hands on his thighs, looking soft and vulnerable with his rumpled hair and white pajama t-shirt, never mind the red silk pants._

_“What are you doing here?” she asks._

_“I know we said we shouldn’t risk it tonight, but I was dreaming –” Jaime swallows hard. “I’m afraid of what I’ll do.”_

_Cersei sits up in bed, smoothing her long golden hair. She reaches for him at the same moment he moves into her arms. “You’re not going to hurt anyone.”_

_“I can still hear his voice in my head –”_

_“It’s not your voice.”_

Cersei can feel Catelyn’s surprise, can recognize the reaction all women have to her brother when he lets his guard down and shows how badly he hurts sometimes, the urge to fuck him and mother him both –

_“I don’t trust her,” Ned says. “I don’t trust Jaime either, but at least I can read him.”_

_“It makes the most sense to use him,” Catelyn agrees. “I always got the sense Cersei wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for him anyway. It doesn’t seem like her style, does it?”_

_Ned smiles as best he can from his hospital bed. “It didn’t seem like yours either, once upon a time.”_

_“Once upon a time,” Catelyn says softly, leaning down to kiss him._

Catelyn has always judged her, as if she herself had signed up for honor or duty or anything other than watching her husband’s back –

_Jaime reaches for her, and Cersei steps out of reach. “Don’t.”_

_“Don’t?” he says disbelievingly._

_Cersei meets his eyes in the mirror and doesn’t stop braiding her hair. “In less than an hour, Catelyn Stark will be inside my head. Do you want this moment to be the one she sees?”_

_Jaime shakes his head. “I don’t care.”_

_“You’re only saying that because you think I might not come back.” Cersei ties off her braid and stands taller, holds her head higher. She refuses to be anything less than certain. “And when I come back, then you’ll care.”_

_She knows that’s not true; Jaime has never really cared about anything other than her, being with her, keeping their secret inasmuch as doing so kept them together. But he lets her have the lie, comes to stand behind her and hug her back against him so tightly she can’t breathe and she wouldn’t have it any other way, and he buries his nose in her hair and asks the question he really needs answered: “And what if you don’t come back?”_

_Cersei lays her hand over his on her shoulder, turns her face into his and closes her eyes. Forehead to forehead, from womb to tomb. “Then I’ll see you in hell, brother.”_

Catelyn is staring at her now, back in her own head with a steady link to Cersei’s, but Cersei doesn’t look over at her. Nothing to break a drift like the foreign sight of _not her brother_ beside her. She doesn’t want to meet any eyes that aren’t bright, familiar green. Cersei keeps her gaze on the battle ahead of her, like she always does – the one thing she and Catelyn Stark have in common.

The handshake holds.


End file.
